The Amazing One-Shots Are Not On Fire
by ReederJoe
Summary: Yeah, it's a bad title. But here's where I'll be posting drabbles, one-shots, and prompts, if anyone ever gets around to sending me some. (Yes, that's an invitation)
1. Let Me Fix That

Let Me Fix That

 **Summary: Dan and Phil are getting ready for the Brit Awards, and Phil's mis-buttoned his shirt. Dan's more than happy to help him fix it.**

 **Genre: pure domestic fluff**

 **Warnings: i'm not responsible for your dental bills**

 **A/N: I've had this in my head all day and I just wanted to make this drabble about what was probably going on when these two were getting ready to host the Brit Awards. I was gonna make some hc's on this topic, but then this happened instead.**

 **PS: I just…wow, this was supposed to be a drabble and it ended up being almost 1k.**

"We're going to be in front of 100,000 people," Dan called from the hallway. "Please be careful."

Phil let out a soft giggle as he pulled the straight iron through his black fringe, smoothing out any curl the hair might have had left. He and Dan were both meticulous about their appearance, and even more so tonight. He ran his fingers through a few times to tousle the locks and set the straightener down on the dresser top.

He shifted his attention to his crisp white button-up shirt, pinching each button as he fastened them. His suit jacket was laid out across the bed; he'd put that on last. His dark trousers _swish_ ed as he paced the length of the room, nerves finally setting in. He was excited, of course, but he couldn't help but think about all the things that could go wrong. He could trip on the red carpet, or forget something he was supposed to say, or even mispronounce someone's name-

"Hey, you." Dan's voice cut into his thoughts and Phil whirled around to face him. Whatever he'd been about to say was lodged in his throat as he took in the sight before him. Dan was fully dressed- black jacket over a printed white button-up dress shirt, dark trousers to match Phil's. His hair was lying perfectly flat, fringe hanging down ever so slightly, and he watched Phil with an expression of love. It wasn't often they saw each other dressed up like this, and Phil could understand why. It was taking all his self-control not to rip those clothes off Dan and take him right then and there. It must have shown on his face, because Dan stepped closer and said, "You want to roll your tongue back up?" He laughed as the words left his mouth and he opened his arms to gather Phil into a tight hug.

"You look gorgeous," Phil murmured against his ear, tickling Dan with his breath and sending a little shiver down his spine. Phil's arms wound around Dan's waist and they stood there for a moment, just holding each other. They were both anxious for tonight, but Dan, at least, knew they'd be fine.

"So do you," Dan mused, pulling away from him, "and you're not even fully dressed yet." His eyes grazed up and down Phil's body, and he smiled when he saw the shirt tail sticking out on the left side. He reached a hand forward to grasp it. "You've buttoned it up wrong," he said with a laugh, fingering the extra button. He paused a moment, thinking, and then he was undoing each button on Phil's shirt, each one popping open to reveal a bit of skin. "Let me fix that."

"Good thing you noticed," Phil sighed, resting a hand on Dan's shoulder. "I'd have walked right out on the red carpet like that." Dan chuckled as he worked the last button and then pushed each side away, causing Phil to blush as he took in Phil's bare chest. Even after six years together, Dan could still cause Phil's cheeks to turn the most brilliant color. It was absolutely beautiful to him, and he tried to make it happen as often as possible.

"We'll have to make use of these suits tonight," Dan commented with a smirk, raising one eyebrow suggestively. Phil grinned, knowing exactly what Dan meant. He moved his hands to start fixing the buttons again, but Dan pushed him aside. "Let the expert handle it," he stated, replacing Phil's fingers. He buttoned the shirt up quickly, sighing almost wistfully as Phil's skin disappeared beneath the fabric. They'd definitely have some fun tonight.

"Oh, you're an expert now?" Phil questioned, straightening the edges of his shirt once Dan had released him. As he tucked the ends into his pants, Dan took the opportunity to wrap an arm around him once more, pulling him close.

"Of course," he said, trailing a hand up to Phil's cheek and cupping his jaw. Their lips came together softly, moving fluidly against each other. They both knew exactly what to do to get the other riled up, but they also knew how to comfort. Dan's lips were always the perfect cure when Phil was worried or nervous. He brought his own arms up to snake around Dan's waist, holding him tight against his body.

Too soon, Phil pulled away, watching Dan with shameless adoration. "We'll be late if we don't hurry."


	2. December 31, 2010

**A/N: Wow I'm bad at titles. Obviously I don't know how things may or may not have gone down, but I like to think that they weren't able to spend New Year's together in 2009, so this is their first New Year's kiss, taking place shortly after Dan's appendectomy surgery (which happened mid-November)**

 **Anyway, here's your daily dose of tooth-rotting fluff.**

 **December 31, 2010**

Dan's fingers tightened their hold on my shirt as he shifted in my lap. I knew he was feeling somewhat overwhelmed at the large number of people crowding the lounge. Luckily for us, our friends knew our status, and when Louise and Zoe had rented out the building for an impromptu celebration, they'd also declared that it would be 'internet-free'. It wasn't like them to host such a huge event without their vlogging cameras, but here we were now, surrounded by people and a basket full of electronics in the corner. All of these things meant I could hold him as close as I wanted, could press my lips to his as often as possible, without worrying about someone accidentally exposing us to the world. We'd be able to watch the ball drop- all the way across the ocean in Times Square- and nobody would be watching us to see if we slipped up because they already knew.

Neither of us was saying much, and that was okay. It was a comfortable silence, even if there were people shouting all around us. I smiled when I felt his face pressing into my neck. I didn't think I'd ever get over the way it tickled my ears when his fringe brushed across my skin, or the way my heart sped up just because he was that close to me. He shifted again, this time to turn around so he was facing me, one leg on each side. It might have looked a bit voyeuristic, but we were safely tucked into a corner of the room, and they were politely ignoring us. We were two scatter-brained boys who hadn't seen each other in almost a month- they were lucky we'd managed to keep our clothes on.

"Care to let me in on the joke?" he asked then, watching me with twinkling eyes. I hadn't even realized he'd pulled his lips from my neck or that I was laughing out loud at my thoughts. My mind went blank for a moment as I searched for the words- I wondered if he knew he did that to me.

"We're practically giving them a show," I replied, snickering. His thighs tightened on my hips, exaggerating that point, but his smile faltered slightly, and he started to move. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him right back, bringing him close enough that our chests were touching. "I didn't say it was a bad thing," I said softly, touching my forehead to his. His beautiful smile returned full-force, revealing a dimple in his right cheek.

"Countdown's begun," someone yelled out from across the room. Both our heads snapped up to look at the large-screen TV on the wall, where the ball was preparing to drop, and then to each other, grinning like mad. Everyone gathered in the center of the room, and we stood up to join them. It was the longest ten seconds of my life, and my heart was barely contained when the ball reached the bottom of the tower.

There was a chorus of _Happy New Year_ 's being sung around the room, people kissing softly and briefly and then shifting their eyes around to watch other people hugging and clinking glasses together. None of it appealed to me. All I cared about in that moment was pulling the boy next to me into my arms, twisting a handful of fingers into his fringe, the other on his back. His arms hung at his sides at first- he was still painfully shy about these things- but as our lips moved against each other and his tongue poked out to slip into my mouth, his hands found their way to my neck and fingernails grazed over my skin as he became more confident.

Eventually, we pulled apart, practically gasping for air. He'd wrapped his arms around my neck and held himself to me tightly, and I had mine around his waist with a grip just as strong. His face was buried in my shoulder, and I knew he was probably blushing furiously at the display we'd just showcased. "Happy New Year, Bear," I whispered, low enough that only he'd hear me. A few seconds passed before he raised his head to look at me, cheeks flushed a brilliant scarlet. The color was breathtaking, especially knowing it was my fault.

"I love you," was his response when he finally broke his silence. My lips curled up almost involuntarily and I placed a palm to his cheek; he leaned into it slightly. And then his eyes lit up with a signature glint that I knew would be followed by some kind of sarcastic remark. Sure enough, when he opened his mouth again, he said, "This holiday might not suck so badly if this is what I get from now on."


	3. Those Are Nice

**Summary: Dan's in a self-hating mood, and Phil likes to remind him of all the reasons he's wrong (Idek man, this thing just took off without me)**

 **Warnings: comfort-y fluff?**

 **Genre: just fluff, man. pure and simple.**

 **Word count: 879**

 **A/N: Believe it or not, this was supposed to be a thing about Dan teaching Phil to play the piano and I'm still not sure how this happened instead.**

Dan was self-conscious about a lot of things, from his too-squishy tummy (in his opinion, at least- Phil loved it) to his eyes that were not a very interesting color. These things kept him up at night sometimes, and he'd end up pacing the hall trying to figure out what people liked so much about him- especially Phil. What did Phil see in him that made him stay? They obviously saw two very different things when they looked at him, because Dan saw a collection of failures representing a sarcastic twat who just so happened to possess the kind of humour that people actually enjoy.

To be quite honest, Phil wanted to slap him silly when Dan thought these things. Because while Dan saw a "muffin top" and too much flab over his hips, Phil saw the physical proof that Dan had overcome the depression eating away at him for who knew how long before he met Phil. Whenever Phil would see that bit of a gut hanging ever so slightly over the waistband of Dan's jeans, he'd smile because there'd been a time when Dan's pants wouldn't stay up and his hipbones would jut out almost unnaturally because there was nothing but skin covering them. Phil had loved him then, too, of course, but those early months of their relationship had been full of concern that Dan would spiral back into that dark place he'd seemingly just escaped from.

Whenever Phil would catch Dan pinching his skin between his fingers and making distasteful remarks, Phil would saunter up behind him and wrap an arm around his waist, covering Dan's hands with his own and gently prodding them away. "What is it today, love?" Phil would ask gently, carefully leaving out any inflection of judgement or criticism in his voice. He usually already knew based on where Dan had been poking his fingers, but he knew it helped to make Dan talk about it.

"Nothing," Dan would always say, patting Phil's arm with too much enthusiasm. It didn't matter how many times this happened; Phil would always ask again. He'd pull Dan close to him, turn him around so he could see Dan's face, and he'd hold his hands on Dan's sides almost possessively, slipping his fingers under the hem of Dan's shirt and resting his palms on the bare skin of his most ticklish spots. Dan would usually grimace at the contact, because he hated how Phil insisted on touching his love handles (even though they were nothing more than tiny pockets of extra chub, and nobody could even see them unless he wore jeans three sizes too small) but eventually, he'd give it up and bury his face in Phil's shoulder and mutter something about flabbiness or too much skin or just being plain ugly-

"You're beautiful." Phil would cut him off with those same words each time, and there was a small part of Dan that always wanted to demand to know exactly what it was that was so great about him, what was so wonderful about Dan that made Phil want to stay, even though Phil told him every single day and they'd been together for six years now and Phil had no intentions of ever leaving. The nice thing about it was that Dan never had to voice that question out loud; Phil went ahead and told him, anyway.

"Your skin is beautiful," Phil would say with a smile, lifting Dan's hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to his palm. "Your eyes are gorgeous," he'd continue, lifting Dan's chin to look into them. "They're the color of my favourite sweets" (Of course, only Phil would be able to say something like that and make it sound romantic). He'd reach a finger out to _bop_ the end of Dan's nose, -"This, too"- and then trail that finger down to stroke his cheek, circling the dimple everyone in the world loved. "And this sad dimple." They'd both be smiling by now, and that would only make it more prominent. "It should be the only sad part of you." Dan would always laugh when Phil whipped out that line, and Phil knew that, so he always did.

"What about these?" Dan would ask, touching his lips with the tip of his index finger. He was feeling so much better by this point, and it was always around this time that he wondered how he could feel so bad when this little personal saviour was right in front of him. There would be other times, later on, and he'd feel like shit again. He didn't think it would ever go away completely, but he knew he'd be okay with Phil there. Even if _that_ urge ever came back, he knew Phil could help him deal with it.

"Those are nice, too," Phil would finish, eyes crinkling up from smiling so wide, and he'd put his hands on Dan's cheeks, curl his fingers into the hair at the nape of Dan's neck, and pull him in for a kiss. Dan's arms would wind around Phil's waist and he'd hold them as close as possible while Phil's lips massaged his own, and for that little stretch of time, there was no room for Dan to hate himself. There was no space left for anything but the acknowledgment of Phil's skin on his, bodies pressing together in a not-very-innocent way.


End file.
